


Spurn

by Exposedma



Series: Tell me Something True [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:12:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5931352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exposedma/pseuds/Exposedma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Echo can’t pinpoint when Theron Shan’s continued existence started being so important to her, so vital. It's terrifying. A kiss is just a kiss except when it isn't, and it's then that Echo decides Theron Shan, SIS agent, is one of the most dangerous men she knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spurn

“Conned a lot of Imperial Agents with phony backstories over the years – here I am telling you the straight-up truth. I’m the enemy, or at least, I will be again if we live through it all.”

 _Stay alive_ It’s been her mantra since she was a child, for as long as she can remember. _We will live through it._ The words are on the tip of her tongue and they taste like honesty so they stick to her palate stopping her tongue and hold her lips together. _I don’t want to be your enemy_. She furrows her brow at him and takes a step forward. _I can’t share my truth with you._ The truth is dangerous, it is a commodity to be horded and hidden lest it kills. Truth has power and he’s just given it to her freely regardless of how innocuous it was. She lifts a gloved hand to his face, touching the cut on his lip and her gut roils at the thought of his death. Her anger, and if she was honest, her fear when she learned he’d been captured lingers in the clench of her jaw. The shock of relief when he burst out blaster firing, very much alive, exists in the tender inspection of his wounds. She can’t pinpoint when Theron Shan’s continued existence started being so important to her, so vital. _Stay alive_. Her hand moves from his face to his collar pulling him towards her. There is no pretense in her expression, like Theron there is no con in her actions and it’s the most honesty she’ll allow herself even if she can’t get the words out. She finds his lips careful of the cut and she’s so achingly gentle with him. She tastes the blood from the cut on his lip, it mingles with the salt of his sweat. _Stay alive_. When his hand presses into her lower back, bringing her closer, she grips his collar more tightly. Her kiss loses its tenderness when his other hand fists into her hair at the base of her skull, when his tongue finds hers, when the sharp exhale of his breath through his nose tries to mask the quiet groan in the back of his throat. She rises onto her toes circling him with her arms, gripping the back of his jacket feeling the shift in his muscles when he tightens his hold on her.

Their lips part, but barely. The puff of his breath is warm on her cheek and she blinks her eyes open. One of his fingers is tracing the contours of her face and she fights the compulsion to kiss him again.

“And they said if I ever kissed an Imp I’d spontaneously implode.” His gaze is soft with a hint of mirth.

“Are you so sure we didn’t?” This time the honesty slips past her defences, and he laughs at what she said, feels it rumbling against her chest, the sound dancing in her ears. She steps away first, because she can’t think with him so near and she can’t remember a time when a kiss has left her so dazed. It’s alarming, and she looks at the warmth in his caramel eyes and decides Theron Shan, SIS agent, is possibly the most dangerous person she knows.

“I should..go…to my ship.” She stammers, and she’s furious with herself because she doesn’t stammer. “I’ll see you on Yavin 4, Theron.”

“Yeah, see you on Yavin 4. Safe travels, Echo.” Theron answers, he extends a hand as if to reach for hers and stops himself, shaking his head and clearing his throat, opting to use said hand to wave instead.

*

On her speeder Echo can almost drown out how hard her heart is pounding. She keeps worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Her mouth a veritable frenzy of overactive nerve endings, the memory of their kiss seared into her skin. Her speeder swerves a sharp angle away from the spaceport towards the cantina. She needs something to numb the sparks lingering on kiss-swollen lips, she needs to drown the memory of kind caramel eyes and deep rumbling groans. Echo decides whiskey is an appropriate medicine.

The rain starts halfway there, torrential and violent, the wind uncaring of canopies and umbrellas, drenching everything and everyone not properly sheltered. Echo is no exception. Her clothes cling to her skin, dark blue tresses drip water into her eyes, onto wooden counter of the bar, onto the teak floor. The seat cushion squelches when she sits and orders her drink, flatly ignoring the dirty look the bartender gives her. Holo messages have interrupted the huttball match to announce that there is a severe storm warning in effect and to stay indoors. A moment later her comm beeps in her ear with Kaliyo informing her of the same.

“Where are you anyways?”

“At the cantina, I’ll lay low here until the weather blows over.”

“Cantina? You bitch, why didn’t you tell me sooner, like I want to be stuck on the damn ship when I could be drinking.” She crows in Echo’s ear.

“Was a last minute decision, I’ll owe you one.”

“Damn right..fu..”The comm cuts out before the string of expletives.

In truth she would have welcomed Kaliyo’s company, her longtime friend had a knack of getting her mind off of the worst of her thoughts, and more than anything Echo needed a distraction. Her drink arrives, neat, the amber liquid reminiscent of his damn eyes. She downs it in a single shot, angry that even her self medication reminds her of him.

She waves her glass at the bartender who promptly fills it up again. By her third drink a comfortable haze settles over her, and she shakes her damp hair out of its tie.  Sighing heavily, she closes her eyes and tries to come up with a suitable plan to get Theron Shan out of her system, or into her system, whatever works best. If a single kiss can send her reeling then she can only imagine how good the sex might be. One night is usually enough to slake her curiosity or infatuation. She shivers in part from the chill her damp clothes are giving her and in part with imagining the things Theron’s hands and mouth were capable of. Her imagination is wholly occupied with mentally stripping the SIS agent, having utterly failed in her task of taking her mind off of him. She doesn’t notice the other patron beside her.  

“I’ll have what she’s having.” Theron’s voice makes her heart jump as he takes the stool beside her, and she can feel his body heat, smell the damp leather of his jacket. She wants his lips again, his voice in her ear, his hands….everywhere. She groans, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

“Speak of the devil.” She says, watching as he takes a sip of his drink, grimaces, then takes another. He catches her staring and lifts an eyebrow at her. “Shouldn’t you be on your ship?”

“Shouldn’t you? Hey to you too by the way. Aren’t you cold? cause I’m freezing.”  Theron inspects her, he’s as wet as she is, the beige shirt under his red leather jacket clings to his chest contouring well used muscles and the outline of bandages.

She averts her gaze and takes a generous swallow. It burns down her throat. “I’m Chiss, apparently we’re rather resistant to the cold.” Feeling bold, and hoping for a blush, she puts her hand on his chest and lets her fingers graze his cold hardened nipples, so clearly seen through his shirt. “Unlike you humans.” Her touch has the desired effect, Theron chokes on his drink, pulling away and attempts to wring some of the water from the offending shirt. Echo lets out a quiet chuckle.

He leans towards her, stopping close enough that she can smell the alcohol on his breath, “You don’t play fair.” His hair is wet and flat against his head, that is until Echo ruffles it, shaking out the excess water until it looks a least a little like his usual style. When she’s done she steps back, she can feel the blood moving in her veins, the persistent throb between her legs matching the quick beat of her heart. It would be so easy to lean forward and kis him, uncaring of the rest of the patrons in the bar.

“No I don’t,” she murmurs, “but then again neither do you.”

“When have I not played fair? I think I’ve been pretty good at playing fair.” He pretends to look affronted while claiming innocence. And stars help her the whiskey adds a gravel to his voice that sends another sting of pleasure through her body.

She points at him with her cup, spilling some her drink. She curses and tries to compensate, quickly licking the side of her glass trying to save what she spilled. He clears his throat and chuckles. Echo continues, “you’re using some sort of Jedi trick on me, I know it. Purposefully throwing me off.  I thought we were allies, Theron.”

“I told you I’m not force sensitive. No tricks. Any throwing off is purely unintentional, but it’s good to know I’m not the only one distracted.” He’s still close, and she can’t feel the chill anymore.

Theron’s leaning towards her, guiding the glass from her hands back to the bar so she doesn’t drop it. She looks from his eyes to his lips prepared to surrender to the kiss he’s closing in on. Echo ignores the indignation in her gut mocking her weakness. She reasons it’s just a kiss, it’s just physical, she’ll move on as soon as she gets what she wants. He doesn’t mean anything to her, or at least he won’t once she’s through slaking her lust. That’s all these flutters are.

They are cut off when the force of the wind outside the cantina blows the windows open. Chaos erupts around them, the staff tries to board up the windows, the cacophony of the gale howls through the main room, knocking over tables and chairs, blowing trays of drinks out of the waitresses hands.  Water sprays into both their faces. Echo lifts a hand to block the rain but Theron is standing in front of her, blocking the worst of it. He takes her hand and pulls her to her feet, and she has to brace herself on his chest while she finds her footing, unsteady from the whiskey and his proximity.

“Come on.” She let’s him lead her to the back of the cantina, down some steps, out of the weather and ruckus of the main room.

His hand is cool, damp from the rain but firm around hers. They duck into a side room, the door nothing more than a decorative curtain, there’s a table littered with dirty dishes and empty bottles and glasses. She steps in something sticky. Not that they notice. Echo is shucking off Theron’s jacket, letting it fall to the floor in a wet heap. Her mouth is on his in an instant, a clash of lips and teeth. Theron’s hands work the clasps on her jacket until it’s laying beside his. He tastes like cheap whiskey and blood as the intensity of their kiss re-opens the cut on his lip. He pulls back with a hiss of pain but Echo ignores it, she’s frantic and of a singular mind. Act and don’t think. Fuck him and he’ll stop living inside her head. She’s had more than her fill of SIS agents taking up space in her psyche. Her lips and tongue assail his throat scraping against stubble. He’s saying something because she can feel the vibrations through his skin, she bites him and revels in the pained-pleasure of his answering groan. Her hands are already working the buckle of his belt. He’s saying something that she’s ignoring again except he grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her away from him.

“Slow down, Echo. We have time.” Except the face she sees and the voice she hears isn’t Theron’s, it’s Hunters.

“Shit.” She jumps back startled, tripping over a chair and falling backwards, hitting the floor hard, of course it would have to happen now.

Theron is beside her in an instant, “What-”

“Don’t..touch me.” She’s reaching for her side arm, Theron takes a step back, eyes narrowed and hands up, fingers open wide.

“Echo. Tell me what’s going on.” He’s moving slowly, his voice firm but soft, his concern clear.

“Just, give me a minute. It’ll pass.” It’s a hallucination, one of the side effects of taking the chemical cocktail needed to reset her mind and break the Castellan restraints. They are few and far between, and not nearly as disturbing as the ones she had while under Ardun Kothe’s control, but they happened. Usually in private.

“What will pass?”

“It’s nothing.” She manages to pull herself up off the ground, Theron attempts to help her up and she recoils from his touch. She holsters her side arm because Theron is Theron again, Hunter’s standing in the corner with a cruel smile. She glances at the ghost briefly before heading out of the room.

“Like hell, one minute you’re tearing my clothes off, the next you’re pulling your blaster on me, Is this your idea of Imperial foreplay?” She shoots him a dirty look. “Talk to me Echo.” He’s pleading with her and the gentle affection in his voice is fraying her tenuous control. He tucks a stray hair behind her ear, the pad of his finger barely grazing her skin, behind him Hunter is laughing at her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re SIS. Of course you’re going to hurt me, Theron.” She hisses at him full of malice. She’s angry, teeth bared and vulnerable, she doesn’t care that she’s being honest, or that she’s just revealed one of her fears. “It’s what you do, and I should have known better.” Her voice is a rasping whisper. 

He stops cold and closes his mouth stopping whatever questions he was going to ask next. The hurt on his face churns her stomach. She feels nauseous, and doesn’t understand the stab of guilt she experiences. She hasn’t told any of her crew about her hallucinations, she wasn’t about to reveal it to the enemy out of misguided emotions.

“This was a mistake. I’m going to go. Don’t follow me.” She’s tired and confused, if she remained beside him he would be able to wring out all of her truths. Fear propels her to drag her body back up the stairs and head out into the weather. The wind whips her hair around her face, the rain soaks through the thin tunic but she’s unwilling to go back for her jacket. The idea of facing him again in her vulnerable state was as appealing as facing off against a rancor bare knuckled.

Echo get’s on her speeder and raises her face to the rain, the howl of the wind, and the chaos of the storm feels like it could swallow her whole. Soaked in rain she can’t identify her tears save for the tightness in her chest and the painful clench of her jaw. She doesn’t see Theron watching her from the doorway when she takes off.


End file.
